Pleading and Praying
by The Steppy One
Summary: Short three chapter fic. He was her hero and that was that. He kept his promises and always came back to her.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just a little ficlet that burried itself in my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it. Originally it was going to be a one-shot but that extended into three chapters. I'm posting them all at once though so I won't keep you waiting. It's kind of a song fic but only really shows where the inspiration for it came from, there's not lyrics all the way through.**

**Thanks to RainbowKissed for beta-ing and Solstice Muse for the 'idea generation' :D Much appreciated ;)**

**Let me know what you think.**

**Cheers, Step ;)**

**Oh yeah! Disclaimer: I don't own any of it.**

**Ple****ading and Praying**

'_She's piling boxes in front of the door, trying to block it,_

"_Daddy please! Daddy don't leave! Daddy! No! Stop it!"_

_Goes in her pocket, pulls out a tiny necklace locket,_

"_it's got a picture, this'll keep you safe Daddy take it with you".'_

_When I'm Gone - Eminem_

I was her Hero.

It broke my heart. My daughter was holding onto me as if her life depended on it. She sobbed into my shoulder as I held her, but no matter how many soothing words I said to her, or how many times I stroked her hair, still she sobbed. There was nothing I could do that would make her stop. Well, actually, that was a lie. It wasn't something I was doing that was upsetting her; it was something I was about to do. What I could do to make her stop, was stay exactly where I was.

The message had arrived five minutes ago, there were masked men attacking Hogsmeade, not Death Eaters, they were long gone, either dead or rotting in Azkaban. No, these were the next generation of terrorists who had yet to give themselves a collective name, and they were, at this very moment, reeking destructive and harmful havoc in the small Scottish village.

I knew it was bad as soon as I read the note. I had stopped being a field Auror eight and a half years ago, the day my daughter was born, so the fact that they were asking me to help fight the terrorists told me the situation was getting out of control. I was to be called in emergencies only, I had done my fighting and had chosen to leave it all behind. This could mean only one thing; they were desperate.

I stood up and took my daughter with me. My wife looked at her and then at me. I walked towards her and she took hold of our daughter's waist, trying to prise her away from me.

'NO!' she screamed into my shoulder through her sobs.

'Sophie calm down, this is silly. You'll make yourself sick if you don't stop crying.'

'_You're not going_! I WON'T LET YOU!'

I felt her grip around my neck tighten and I closed my eyes out of frustration. We had shut the door when we started talking about where I was about to go, but a shutting door in this house is like a siren to Sophie. She knows something's wrong when we do, and I was so engrossed in the letter and my conversation with her mother that we didn't notice the door open. Sophie had heard the whole thing and as I pulled my cloak on, she threw herself through the door and attached herself to me with no intention of letting go.

'Sophie I _have_ to go. They need my help, they need as many people's help as they can get. I can't let them down.'

'There are other p…people they can ask! There are h…h…hundreds of Aurors! Why you? Why _my_ Dad?'

A lump had appeared in my throat and I turned to the only person who could help me: her mum.

'I can't do this,' I mouthed at her.

'What can I do?' she mouthed back.

I looked at her, mouth open. The last thing I wanted was to have Sophie physically pulled off me, I had never imagined wanting or needing to ever let her go, especially when she was upset.

'Sophie, come on. Daddy has to floo to work. He _needs_ to go.'

Suddenly Sophie went quiet and her grip loosened around my neck. Taking my chance I put her on the floor. She looked up at me for a minute; her eyes were red, her cheeks tear stained and her hair stuck to her hot forehead at every angle.

As suddenly as she had stopped crying she set off out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

'I might not be screaming and sobbing but I feel the same way she does.'

'Please don't make this harder than it is. You know I have to go. They wouldn't have asked me if they weren't desperate. I have to go, now!'

'Fine, but you'd better come back unharmed or you'll have me and an irate daughter to answer to.'

I appreciated her small attempt of humour and pulled her into a hug.

When we pulled apart I walked through to the lounge and stopped dead at what lay before me. Somehow Sophie had managed to move most of the furniture in the room in front of the fireplace, blocking my exit, and it was my only exit. It was after hours, the anti-apparation wards would be surrounding the Ministry and the floo network had only been reconnected to the Auror office for the next ten minutes so us 'emergency only' Aurors would be able to get to where we were needed.

I sighed as my eyes fell on my daughter who was standing defiantly in front of all the furniture. I can only imagine her upset and anger had given her magical strength to let her move the heavy wooden furniture, there was no other way a eight-year-old girl would normally be able to move objects that heavy.

'I won't let you leave! You'll get hurt like Uncle Charlie! Daddy _please_ don't go, _you have to stay safe_!'

I flicked my wand a few times and the furniture arranged itself in its proper places. Sophie physically wilted as she saw all her hard work negated in a few seconds, then a fresh wave of tears ran down her face.

For the second time that afternoon I knelt down to my daughter's eye level.

'Sophie, I promise you I'll stay safe. I'll be home before you know it, before you're in bed even!'

She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. 'You promise?' she mumbled.

'I promise.'

'I still don't want you to go.'

'I know you don't, but I have to, there's some people who need my help.'

Sophie's eyes widened and she pulled up her left sleeve. She unclasped the bracelet hanging round her wrist and clasped it back together again. It was her pride and joy, she had seen a picture of a charm bracelet in a muggle magazine and had begged us to get her one for her birthday. She had been collecting the little charms ever since, and always asked for one for every birthday and Christmas.

She took one of the charms between her thumb and forefinger and held it out to me.

'Take this with you. It'll bring you luck.'

It was the four-leaf clover charm.

I smiled. 'Sophie I don't ne-'

'_Please_ Daddy, take it with you and then you can give it back to me later on.'

The Weasley determination burned in her eyes so I took the bracelet from her and put it in my jeans pocket.

'There. I'll have all the luck I need.'

I stood up and picked her up, spinning her round before depositing her in her mother's arms. An unbelievably determined eight-year-old she might be, but she still needed a 'fly' from her dad and an 'up hug' from her mum on occasion.

I kissed my wife goodbye and stepped into the fireplace.

'Auror Head Office,' I shouted into the green flames and in a second I was gone.

…oooOOOooo…

Later that night I stepped out of the fireplace and smiled as I saw my wife and daughter asleep side-by-side on the sofa.

I knelt down beside the three-seater and stroked Sophie's hair, she stirred but didn't wake.

'So much for being back before she fell asleep!'

I looked up and saw the eyes I had fallen in love with. I smiled back at them.

'Actually I said I'd be back before she went to bed, and I am, she's on the sofa!'

Sophie stirred and opened her eyes slightly. When she focused on me she jumped up and threw her arms around my neck without saying a word.

'I told you I'd be back, didn't I? I promised. I never break a promise to my girl and I never will.'

She pulled back and smiled.

'Did it bring you luck?' she asked.

I took the bracelet out of my pocket and held it out to her.

'I think it did.'

She took it off me and fastened it back around her wrist.

'Come on,' I said as I stood up. 'Bedtime.'

I think it was a sign of how relieved she was that she didn't argue, she just took my hand and I led her upstairs to her room.

She got into bed and I sat on the edge.

'Dad?' she said, apparently 'Daddy' is spared for when she's panicking. 'You won't have to go out again, will you?'

I sighed. 'Sophie, I can't say that so I won't promise it. If I'm needed then I will go. I can't sit by while my friends need my help. Do you understand that?'

She looked at me and then at her bracelet.

'Yes,' she mumbled.

'Good.'

I kissed her forehead and tucked her in.

As I was about to walk through her bedroom door I turned back to her and smiled.

'Sweet dreams Sophie. Night night.'

'I love you Dad. Will you tell mum I love her too?'

'Of course I will. I love you too.'

She smiled. 'Night night.'

'Night.'

I closed her door and went downstairs to the lounge.

'Is she all right?'

I smiled. 'She's fine. She told me to tell you she loves you.'

'You know, most of the time you were gone she sat in front of the fireplace staring at a photograph of the three of us. I think she was praying for your safe return.'

'It seemed to have worked.'

'Look, I don't want to say this, but…I have to. You gave all that up for her, you promised her minutes after she was born that you'd be there to see every first thing she did. Don't make me be the person that has to tell her you broke a promise. _Please_.'

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

'I won't…I won't.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Pleading and Praying**

'_I try to keep you sheltered from it but somehow it seems_

_the harder that I try to do that, the more it backfires on me._

_All the things growing up his daddy that he had to see_

Daddy don't want you to see but you see just as much as he did.' Mockingbird – Eminem 

He was her Hero.

Every time she looked at him she saw comfort. If anything bad ever happened, she knew she would be all right if she told her dad; he could fix anything. The first time she fell over and drew blood she went straight to him. He fixed her knee in a second and hugged her until she stopped crying.

I had never seen her hysterical before, if I'm honest it scared me but I did know how she felt; I just had to keep all that emotion and hurt inside, I couldn't do what she was doing, it would have made her worse.

The whole time her dad was out on that mission she hardly said a word. She sat on the cold stone in front of the fireplace and just stared at the photograph that normally sat on the top of it.

Unfortunately that wasn't the last time she sat there, for the next few times he was called away to help with the latest bout of terrorism, she sat herself down and stared at that photo. The screaming and sobbing had reduced every time he went, but she wouldn't let him leave without making sure he had her charm bracelet in his pocket. She believed it would keep him safe.

It was as if she knew he'd come back to her if he had her charm bracelet. It was the one thing she had faith in, unfounded, (probably), but it didn't matter. She believed in it and that was all that mattered.

We tried to keep the horror stories from her, she wasn't even at Hogwarts yet, but she still understood exactly what was going on in the wizarding world. We didn't want her to know, of course we didn't, our innocence had been shattered at too early an age, we didn't want the same thing to happen to Sophie. However, she was her father's daughter through and through, so the harder we tried to keep her from reading the paper or eavesdropping on conversations, the more she seemed to find out. I swear she'd 'found' some extendible ears and where using them to their full potential.

On the seventh time her dad got called out she once again took her position in front of the fireplace. I sat on the sofa opposite her and watched her for a few minutes.

'Soph, why don't you sit here with me? It's cold on the stone floor.'

She looked at me and then back down at the photo.

'You can bring that too if you want,' I said with a smile.

She stood up and sat herself next to me.

'I don't know why I sit there, I just do. I know he'll come back. He promised me he would.'

As much as I thought that my husband would come back from his latest adventure, I couldn't help but think it was tempting fate promising our daughter he would. I didn't want the last thing my daughter to remember of her father was a broken promise. Not that it would come to that. It wouldn't.

'Plus he has my charm bracelet. As long as he has that, he'll be safe.'

I smiled at my daughter's innocence, well, what was left of it; she still knew far too much for my liking, but the fact that she could believe an inanimate object could help keep her dad safe was comforting.

When he came back later that night (why all these attacks had to happen at night I don't know!) he put Sophie to bed as normal and then came downstairs and collapsed on the sofa.

'Was she alright when I left?' he asked.

'Yeah she was fine, I managed to get her from in front of the fire to on the sofa with me.'

'That's good.'

'Yeah it is.'

My tone told him there was something bothering me. He turned towards me and looked into my eyes.

'What is it?'

'I…I just wish you wouldn't promise her that…'

'That I'll come back,' he finished for me.

'Yeah…I suppose. I don't even want to contemplate the thought that you won't, but we saw enough horrendous stuff during the war to show us anything could happen. We couldn't promise each other anything. I know this isn't a war, not yet anyway, that's something else I don't want to contemplate, but still…'

'Look, I…I know what you mean, of course I do, but every time I leave she asks me to promise and I can't stand there and not say the words. If I don't promise, she'll become hysterical again, and I don't want to upset her.'

'I know! I know why you do it but it just seems…wrong that's all.'

'For what it's worth I don't think this is going to turn into another war, there aren't enough of them and their resolve doesn't seem too strong. The fact that they don't have a specific leader helps things too. They're just becoming more desperate.'

'_Desperate_? People who don't mind causing death and destruction are _worse_ when they're desperate! You should know that!'

He held up his hands in surrender.

'Okay, okay, I know they are, I was just saying things seem to be getting better. I don't want to argue with you, I didn't mean to sound flippant.'

I smiled, of all the things my husband was, flippant and underestimating weren't two qualities he possessed.

'I know.'

I looked towards the fireplace and smiled.

'You know she's growing up faster than we did, and that's frightening!'

He smiled. 'I know she is, but with us as her parents we can't exactly be surprised can we?'

'No we can't. I think we can safely say, 'growing up fast' is in her genes.'

'Along with stubborn, slightly hot headed, and extremely determined!'

'Yep those too!'

I fell silent and looked spun my wedding band around my finger.

'Please don't break that promise to her. I don't think I'd cope.'

'I'll try my hardest. I promise I'll try my hardest.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Pleading and Praying**

'_And when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn,_

_Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice,_

_Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling,_

_And I didn't feel a thing, so baby don't feel no pain,_

Just smile back.' 

_When I'm Gone – Eminem_

He was my hero.

It was as simple as that. He saved me from everything like heroes did. They pick you up when you fall, they comfort you when you are upset and they'll promise you anything to make you feel comforted and secure. My dad was all those and more, everything I could want in a father figure he was. End of story.

When the fighting started again I read the Prophet every day needing to know every detail about what was happening, don't ask me why I needed to know, I just did. Maybe it was because I knew my dad had been pivotal in the last war, no – that's an understatement – my dad _was_ the war, the good side anyway. I was probably trying to tell myself that it wouldn't be his fight to win this time; it would be another person's problem, anyone but _my_ dad.

For a while it wasn't his, it wasn't my dad's fight. What I didn't realise at the time was that it was probably another little girl's dad going out to stop the madmen, well, I might have realised it, but I didn't let myself think about it. As long as it wasn't _my_ dad, I didn't care.

But then one night it became my dad's fight. I screamed, I shouted and I sobbed but I couldn't stop him leaving. For a while I honestly thought I could stop him; he had never done anything that had made me upset before. If I'm honest he was far too soft on me, mum got annoyed when he let me get away with anything, and it was because of this that I believed I could stop him going. He would give me what I wanted, always.

That time he didn't.

He still went to help in any way he could, I don't think he couldn't not go; that was the type of person he was. He came back though; he kept his promise and returned my bracelet to me. He kept his promise.

And he did every time he went, when he promised me he'd come back he did, when I gave him my bracelet he always came home to give it back to me before I went to bed. For the eleven times he went out and I gave him my bracelet he came back.

Then there was the twelfth time.

I was upstairs talking to my best mate Hannah on the phone when I heard mum shout from downstairs.

'Yeah?'

I shouted out of my room, knowing my voice would carry downstairs.

When I got no reply I presumed it wasn't important, if it had been there would have been another yell telling me to get downstairs there and then, but there wasn't so I carried on talking to Hannah.

Five minutes later I finished my conversation and wandered downstairs to put the phone back in it's cradle. I strolled into the kitchen and picked a couple of cherries from the bowl.

'Where's dad?' I asked mum before putting one in my mouth.

'He got called to work,' she replied simply.

I swallowed the cherry almost whole and winced as it slowly made it's way down my throat. I ignored the pain because a shiver had just shot through me.

'Why?' I asked in barely a whisper.

'They er…they need him to help with some fighting that's broken out.'

Anger erupted inside me.

'And he left without saying goodbye to me?' I screeched.

'Sophie don't shout. I called to you but there wasn't time for him to wait. The message said it was urgent.'

'It's been urgent every single time he's been called and he's always said goodbye to me before. I can't believe he left without taking my bracelet! He knows it keeps him safe!'

Mum smiled and walked towards me.

'Sophie, I think it's more your dad's skill that brings him back every time rather than him taking your bracelet with him.'

I glared at her.

'_I don't care_! He _always_ took it with him and he _always_ promised me he'd come back all right! _But he _DIDN'T THIS TIME!'

'Sophie calm down. This time won't be any different to the other time's he's gone. He'll be back before you know it.'

I glared at her and walked through the kitchen to the lounge. I sat in front of the fireplace and looked at the picture of the three of us, hoping and praying he would come back unharmed.

The bright green flash of flames took me by surprise and I nearly broke my neck turning it to see who had arrived.

I was disappointed when it wasn't my dad, it was my uncle Ron and Aunty Hermione. I dismissed their arrival with a half-smile and a shrug, not looking at them properly.

'Sophie, where's your mum?' Aunt Hermione asked.

If I had been paying more attention I would have noticed the way her voice quivered and the fact that she was crying. But I didn't notice it because I was staring resolutely at the picture on my lap.

'Upstairs I think,' I replied simply.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Uncle Ron walk through the lounge and disappear up the stairs, Aunty Hermione sat herself down on the sofa. Despite my initial rudeness I struck up a conversation.

'How are you Aunty Hermione?' I asked.

'Oh er…fine Sophie, how are you?'

Had her voice not cracked during her question I wouldn't have looked up at her. When I did I went cold. She was crying and by the looks of her she had been for a while.

'What it is?' I asked, panicking.

She didn't say anything, just looked at me as tears fell down her cheeks.

She was saved any explanation by a gut-wrenching scream coming from upstairs. I stood up and bolted from the room, a stool went flying in the kitchen as I tore past it, but I didn't notice.

'SOPHIE WAIT!'

I ignored Aunty Hermione's screams and took the stairs three at a time. I ran into mum and dad's bedroom and I saw mum being cradled by Uncle Ron. She was screaming and sobbing and trying her hardest to punch her anger out of her. Uncle Ron took it all without flinching.

'NO!' I screamed. 'HE'S NOT DEAD! NOT _MY_ _DAD_! HE CAN'T BE!'

I went to run forward toward mum and Uncle Ron but someone grabbed me from behind, pulling me into what looked like a hug but was really a restraint.

'Sophie don't,' she whispered into my ear. 'Calm down.'

I struggled against her grip but I couldn't get free. 'We need to leave them alone, I'll tell you what happened. I will, I promise. Let's go into your room. Come on.'

Only one thing in that sentence hit home 'I'll tell you what happened'.

I stopped struggling instantly and her grip loosened. She physically turned me round and steered me into my room.

I stood behind my door and glared at my Aunty, but she refused to meet my eye.

'Well?' I demanded. 'What happened?'

She looked at me for a second before taking a breath.

'They er…they were called to a muggle village in Devon. There were houses on fire and duels going on in the street. Be…before they knew what was happening…some er…some Dementors were summoned.'

Dementors? I thought, well that was all right then! Dad could handle Dementors with his eyes closed.

'It was a chain of events really,' she continued. 'There were fights going on and another Auror was thrown into Harry. He…er…he dropped his wand and was thrown backwards by an impediment jinx. That was when…it happened.'

I think I knew there and then what had happened but I refused to believe it. Death was better than…than…_that_.

Aunty Hermione looked like she was calming herself, but it didn't stop the tears.

'He was attacked by a Dementor. He was given the Dementor's kiss.'

I stand at the foot of my father's bed and stare at him. He's in a hospice that only takes victims of Dementors, there's nowhere else for them to go. There's no point in them taking up beds in St. Mungo's, they have enough to deal with. I didn't even know where they went before it happened, I'd never thought about it. Why would I?

To be honest I don't know why I come here. I know he can't hear me, and I know I'll never get any response from him ever again. I know it may seem harsh, but I think it would be easier if he were dead. He'd be in a better, higher place, not stuck in this hole, an empty shell of his former self.

I blame myself for what happened. If I had come downstairs when I was called I would have given him my bracelet, and I would have made him promise to come back to me safe. But I didn't, he didn't, and now he has no soul.

Actually I lied before, I do know why I come here; it's to punish myself for letting this happen. I make myself look at what I caused.

I look down at my wrist and picture the bracelet sitting there. It doesn't sit there anymore; I took it off the night he didn't come back home.

It was now around his wrist. No one else knows it is there – well the carers might – but no one else and I like it that way. I don't care what people say, it was the four leaf clover on that bracelet that kept him safe all those times he went out, and it's that four leaf clover that I hope is helping him in some way now. It may seem stupid, some people say there's nothing left of him to help but I don't care what they say. I let him down once. The least I can do is try and keep him safe now.

He was my Dad and he was my hero.

He was Harry James Potter.


End file.
